As you may remember, Lyon won the ONE-DAY DESTINATION DEATHMATCH for my upcoming trip to gay (or bi-curious; no judgements here) Paris.
Of course, this means planning things out, and as anyone who has watched a carefully-constructed plan crumble, you know that fools plan while God laughs. Thus I present the following plan for a Saturday in Lyon (May 13, 2017):
6:30am: arrive Gare de Lyon. Curse the unholiness of this hour on a perfectly good Saturday. Wish something was open for breakfast. Remember what a peachy idea catching the first train to Lyon seemed like when I was planning this all out back four months ago.
7:00am: board the choo-choo for Lyon. Find out if the Bar Car is open. Fish through the Rick Steves' French phrasebook for, "I have become sober. Please help me."
9:00am: arrive Lyon -- most pronounceable city in France next to Paris!
9:15am: hoof it to Les Halles de Lyon for some shopping and potential gorging on samples of wonderful victuals. Will there be vin? One hopes!
10:30am: depart via taxi for Les Halles de Lyon for La Basilique Notre Dame de Fourvière.
10:45am: arrive at the funicular. I dunno what it is, but it has FUN in the name, so I know a good time is in store!
10:46am: wait -- it's just a train that goes up a hill? I call false advertising!
11:00am: arrive La Basilique Notre Dame de Fourvière. Poke around reverently. Mind Ps and Qs. No prop comedy in the nave. Avoid death-glare from wife should I violate any of these.
11:30am: right, that's enough holiness for one day. Time to scamper down the hill to the old section of Lyon.
12:00pm: lunch. Not sure where. But somewhere good. Somewhere sinfully filling. Somewhere with wine.
1:30pm: time to wander around and take pictures of things. Wait -- is that a wine shop?!
2:00pm: find that awesome gelatto stand on Rue du Baleen.
3:00pm: take it all in -- inhale deeply, look around, smile (wait, no smiling: Rick says it makes you look senile and I'm at least six weeks from that), be in the moment. Maybe another glass of wine.
5:00pm: dinner. Not sure where. Someplace amazing. Someplace where I'll later recall fondly that THIS is where I learned what French food was all about. Oh, and fromage. Must have du fromage! Maaaaybe a glass of wine, too. Maybe. Wait -- I'm in Lyon: of course there'll be wine! To not have wine would be un-Lyonine! Yes, yes, wine is a must!
5:01pm: "Yes, Dear. Of course, Dear. Five glasses is more than enough -- I concur, Dear."
7:30pm: dinner over, find a taxi and get my jolly butt to the train station.
8:00pm: arrive train station.
8:30pm: depart Lyon for Paris. Stealth mission to the Bar Car while pretending to use le toilette...
9:00pm: return with a likely, and wholly un-believed, story that I ran into Brad Pitt on the way to the toilet and he wouldn't shut up about how snooty the French are and that's why I'm holding two beers. Or something.
9:01pm - 12:00am: THAT look, every five minutes, from my wife until we reach Paris again.
12:01am: arrive Paris -- MISSION SUCCESSFUL!
-or-
12:01am: arrive Reims -- d'OH!
(nb: I'm sure I'm missing something here, something that I just can't live without seeing / doing / drinking; your two cents are always welcome!)
-- Mike Beebe